X Factor
by Akirasamoji
Summary: Next Mission: a new organization spawns a whole mess of new problems, and Weiss is right in the middle of it. Chapter 3 is up, complete with a steamy, scene between a popular pair! Can you guess who before you read it?
1. New Mission

--Disclaimer for this chapter and all subsequent chapters: I don't own it, and I sadly never will.

--Warning for this chapter and/or all subsequent chapters: Contains violence, language, adult content and yaoi. You have been warned.

--Translations at the end.

* * *

Darkness. Heavy breathing in the seemingly small space, the walls were closing in, he just knew it. No one had come yet. Was it the next day, or had it only been a few hours? Hidaka Ken struggled ineffectively against the leather straps restraining him, his mouth twisting into a grimace as it chafed his already raw skin. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be calm; hyperventilating was not going to help him. 

Quieting, Ken closed his eyes and listened. The only sound he could hear was that of his own breathing, and a soft whirring, from the ventilation system he assumed. Itching to move, to break free, to escape, Ken pushed and pulled, tugging every which way, trying to get a hold of the straps holding him in place, but could only brush his fingertips to it. It was frustrating as hell.

A loud click sounded and Ken started as lights came on. He winced, the white blindfold they had on him was enough to block his vision, but not the drastic light change. A woman said something in German; he recognized that much from having to listen to Schuldig run his mouth whenever they encountered one another.

The woman had come in before, after different things; each time she had stuck him with a needle and then proceeded to question him about his life, his friends, his ruined J-League career . . . and Weiss. Her inquiry had not helped her understand him. He hadn't said a word through her questions, vowing silence. It was always better to say nothing at all, to give them no reaction that could be read and used against him. Aya taught him that.

. . . But the last time she had come in . . . it had started the same, the injection, and the pause before questioning—and then she started to tell him about his own life. His old friends, stupid things from high school: pranks, favorite subjects, his love of soccer leading to the J-League where his career was terminated by a false drug accusation. She knew all about Kase orchestrating the whole thing . . . she knew so much. But she had said hardly anything about Weiss, his friends so close that they were his family, for he had none other. She mentioned them as friends, acquaintances even, but obviously did not know the closeness he had with the other three. Or if she did, she was not letting on to the fact. But how did she know the rest?

A man spoke then, his proximity much closer than the woman's as he was seized suddenly, pulled up by the bonds on his wrists. They must have had a detachable part from the wall to keep him bound in-travel. This was certainly new. As soon as he was on his feet he lashed out at the man, only to hit nothing. A curse was muttered and a blow landed on the back of his head, causing stars to dance in front of his eyes. A rough shove got him stumbling forward as the woman's voice reached his ears, heavily accented.

"I wouldn't do that Ken-kun, you may injure yourself. Neither of us wants that," He could hear the smile in her tone as he was manhandled down what he assumed to be a corridor. They stopped suddenly and he felt the familiar prick of the needle and jerked away from it. The needle twisted in his arm and snapped before the man holding him twisted him around and shoved him up against a wall, jerking his head up by his hair so he wouldn't break his nose. How considerate; the brunette thought dryly.

"We are getting closer, perhaps a few more treatments and it will be done, as you can see, he's not rejecting it," the woman spoke. She obviously wasn't speaking to him, so there must be a third person in the room.

". . . This is no proof, Izuma," a soft voice replied, too quiet to determine whether the speaker was male or female.

"It will be, shortly. You said you wanted to see some of the process, well, this is some of it. We're going to start the inducing today, if you can stomach it," a cool edge lined the German's words.

Hmm. There's a little friction here, maybe I can get them at each others throats . . .

"Demonstrate away."

More pressure was put on him to keep him in place by the male. Gritting his teeth, Ken stuck to his vow and remained impassive. Only when the trial started did he realize just how much he was in for, and how hard it was going to be to keep that vow. Not long thereafter screams echoed through the empty white corridors.

* * *

Aya Fujimiya raised one hand to his face and massaged the bridge of his nose for the seventh time that morning. He was worried. It had been a week since Ken had disappeared; a week since that last mission. It hadn't even been that difficult. They had gone in as usual and eliminated the targets. The only problem was that Ken hadn't come back. 

"Aya-kun!"

Aya looked up at the insistent calling and realized Omi was surrounded by the usual flood of fan girls in the Koneko no Sumu le. Irritated Aya leveled a glare at them. "Buy something, or get out!" he growled. A few of the ones closer in proximity to him backed up and scuttled out, clutching their purchases to their chests. The other girls looked at him a moment and then broke out in unison: "Mouuuuuuu."

After that the sound level dropped and the loudest thing in the room was the cash register. Omi sighed with relief as the last of the after-school crowd left. Dark circles showed under his unusually dull blue eyes and he stifled a yawn while watering the potted plants. ". . . Na, Aya-kun? Do you think Ken-kun is alright?" Omi ventured, seeking reassurance. Ken-kun had to be okay. He just had to be.

". . ."

"Aya-kun?"

A sigh. "Omi . . ."

The door chime saved him from any further reply as a few of the older girls came in. One of them headed straight for Aya and started asking random questions about different flora. Stilling a moment, the redhead answered her questions with as few words as possible, absently wondering why Kudoh was late, yet again.

A few minutes later, as if he knew what Aya was thinking, the tall lanky blonde himself emerged from the back and plucked his apron off the hook. The two girls immediately went for him like sharks after blood.

"Yoji-san, what should I buy my mother for her birthday?"

"Yoji-kun, what flower represents lust?"

"Ladies," Yoji greeted them with a slow smile as he launched into his shift with the two women.

Omi sighed with relief and finished watering the geraniums and woodruff, ending his shift. Tugging his apron off, he disappeared into the back and dashed upstairs to grab his helmet. He was tired of waiting with no clues about Ken. It was past time one of them went to gather some.

* * *

It was quieter than it had been the night of their mission. Peering around yet another corner, Omi found himself looking at yet another empty corridor, though a few feet away there was a splash of rust color on the off white walls and floor: dried blood. 

Judging by the pattern, it was Ken who had been here. Cautiously he inched down the corridor, poking into the rooms along the way. He'd made his way through most of the building when he heard something. He paused and slipped into a darker portion of the room he was in, straining his ears, dart in hand.

"Damn it this stuff stinks," a gruff voice reached Omi's ears and the door swung open abruptly, revealing a large portion of the floor in the harsh light from the hallway. A few more curses and the sound of someone tripping over something, and then the room was illuminated.

A snort, "It's accelerant, what do you expect?"

That made two. He could take two, piece of cake.

"Don't leave anything unturned boys, I want nothing left to be pieced together when they investigate this fire," a third, authoritative voice.

Omi risked a peek around the desk and quickly ducked back down. He had to make a break for the door, whatever the risk, any second one could come close enough to spot him, or come around the desk and discover him crouching there.

"Bring that—"the tall redhead stiffened and wavered, grabbing for the nearby filing cabinet.

"Ras! What's wrong man?" the large man rumbled, grabbing for the redhead as he toppled over.

Omi slipped around the pair and dashed out as a yell sounded behind him. Dashing down the corridor he turned abruptly into the stairwell and swung over the railing, dangling, and dropping down to the floor below. He turned and took the stairs down two and three at a time, watching his stride. It wouldn't do to trip now. Hearing clattering and shouting above, he ran out onto the next floor and quickly made his way to the other stairs. He slowed and slipped down the stairs carefully, listening for his pursuers. Omi opened the bottom door a crack, his gaze raking the empty room. Allowing a small smile to come to his lips, he cautiously walked out and pushed the door to the open; red streaked sky of sunset and froze, going cold.

He was staring down the barrel of a .45 pistol wielded by a tall brunette. "Back inside or I shoot you here boy,"

Time stood still as Omi considered his dwindling options; go back inside to face the goons, or try to escape and probably get shot but keep the chance of escape. The noise of the doors swinging open behind Omi decided him. He dodged quickly to the left and ducked as he went; causing the woman's shot to go high. He got a few feet further before another shot rang out and his left leg crumpled under him, warmth rushing down. Omi gasped and threw his arms out to catch himself. A pair of large strong hands seized him and jerked him back, forcing him back inside.

The brunette curled her lip at Omi, eyes flicking to the two who had pursued him. "Well? What do you have to say for yourselves? Who is this kid? What if he escaped? What does he know?" she demanded, lips pressing into a thin line.

"That's what I'd like to know, though I'm more interested in his death," the leader commented, holding up the dart. "I think this speaks wonders. It's poisonous, and that kid killed Ras." The leader turned on Omi, furious that this mere child could take down his companion and grabbed his coat, pulling it open, searching. The large man tightened his grip and held Omi fast while the leader searched.

"Ah, see!" the leader pulled out more of Omi's darts holding them up so the woman could see.

The brunette glared. She moved forward and pushed him and his evidence aside without a thought, her bronze eyes narrowed as she took a hold of Omi's chin. "Who are you?" Omi just stared defiantly back, remaining silent. Nothing would save him now. Not even if Aya or Yoji, it was too early for them to have closed the shop to see the note he left on the counter.

Pursing her lips, the woman slapped him, and he felt the burn as his blood rushed to the new pain. She turned and paced, her red high heels clacking loudly on the white marble floor.

"Mira—"

"Shut up you fool," she hissed

The dark haired man with the beard tensed and then stepped forward. Omi caught a flash of one of his darts and cried out when it pierced his shoulder. Omi closed his eyes and grimaced.

"What are you doing, you idiot?!" The brunette strode forwards and snatched the dart, pulling it free.

"We couldn't let him live after this anyway. I deserve vengeance for Ras! Let the squirt die by his own weapon." The leader crossed his arms, "Not'in you can do about it now anywho."

The crack of skin on skin as the brunette slapped the leader hard enough to rock him back a few steps sounded in the large, empty room. "Du dämlicher Idiot! Auslese könnte Gebrauch von ihm machen!"

Numbness started spreading through Omi, and he felt himself going limp, his eyes trying to close of their own account. The woman reached for him then, but he had nothing to fight her with, energy drained away as his eyelids fluttered closed.

* * *

Yoji Kudoh allowed his mask to drop with the gate of the Koneko, closing firmly with a click. The day hadn't been a great one. Not even his usual fan girls could cheer him up. Like the other members of Weiss, the blonde was worried about their resident soccer fanatic. Anxious to speak with Aya and Omi about the situation, he turned mouth open—to find that Aya had already disappeared into the living quarters the four of them shared. He grumbled and went out for a smoke to take the edge off his nerves. 

The sky was brilliant, sunset painting the sky red, orange and pink; purple just starting to show on the underbellies of the clouds in sharp contrast to the rapidly darkening sky. Taking a long drag, he smiled at a pair of girls as they strolled past and turned his back on the darkening sky.

"Yoji! Wait!" a feminine voice called, and he pushed the door back open, peering out to see his favorite sexy-kitten. "Manx!"

The redhead smiled briefly and slipped past the lanky blonde into the building. "I have some information for the three of you."

* * *

"Where's Chibi?" 

A shrug, "Homework perhaps."

"Well, go get him, will you?" Yoji commented, headed for the kitchen, "want anything to drink Manx?" the blonde asked casually, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His smile broadened as the two glared at him uniformly. He laughed and disappeared into the kitchen, snagging a couple of sodas. Shutting the door with his hip as he turned, he stopped, eyeing the slip of paper resting on the counter.

"This information can wait Manx,"

A thin red eyebrow rose sharply "This is essential to your next mission Balinese."

"Omi is more important than that. Aya!" Yoji turned toward the stairs and jumped as Aya was standing just a few feet from him.

"Seems Omi decided to do his own digging," Yoji held the note out to Aya.

"Let's go."

Manx glanced between them, eyes widening. "Wait, what? Omi . . ."

"Omi has returned to the site of our last mission, where Ken disappeared,"

". . . Not good, that building went up in flames less than an hour ago. We spotted some leaving the scene, and are tracking them. . ."

* * *

Darkness. Ken pushed himself into a sitting position, blinder than usual. Feeling around he discovered that he was no longer bound to anything—his hands, his feet, he was free, resting on the smooth, cool floor. He reached up to pull of the blindfold, only to find it gone as well. A wave of panic surged through him before he shoved it down. Be rational. Surely he would know if he was blind. Wouldn't he? No, be positive. So the room must be dark. Rubbing his wrists, he considered his options. 

Nothing much he could do but sit and dwell on things he couldn't change, or try to find a way out. He never was one to just wait for things to happen. Shifting, he climbed to his feet and had the oddest sensation. He managed to take a step back and reached for a wall, hoping one was nearby so he could steady himself, but only felt empty air. Losing his balance, he fell onto his back with a thud and closing his eyes on impact.

High, bitter laughter filled his ears for a moment, and he felt tears rising with emotions. He was sick of being locked away, trapped in a world of bare, dark rooms and visits from a sadistic German nurse wannabe. When would it end? Was it ever going to end? Ken choked back the hysterical laugh and pushed down the tears. This wasn't right. This wasn't who he was. If he was going down, he refused to drown in tears of anguish. No. He was going to get out. He would escape—! First things first. . .

Ken propped himself up on his elbows and sat up slowly. Something was wrong. He didn't feel right. Of course, everything felt a little off, but he had the feeling that he was missing something drastic . . . something important. Before he could come up with anything, something clicked, and dazzling white light filled his vision. With a gasp, his hands went to his eyes, trying to shield them from the sudden harsh light. Well, he wasn't blind. He felt a presence and he was seized and jerked half to his feet. The brunette's head swam with the sudden movement and before he could recover he was cast aside again, landing on the floor on his shoulder with a grunt.

"Beautiful. She's beautiful . . . we're almost done with your treatment Ken-chan…and look, Mira brought you a friend," the woman he knew as Izuma spoke, no, gloated, at him. Ken tried to glare at the woman, but it probably came out more like a grimace. She laughed, her thick German accent returning to her as she walked out, the door clicking shut with finality. With the door went the lights, blinding him again, but now he knew.

He would never have thought possible what they did, how they had violated him; hijacked his body and pump it with some drug until something happened. But this…this was the last thing he expected. How could it be possible? What could they have possibly given him to change him to this extreme? To change him— a whimper stopped his mind from running in circles further. Opening his eyes, Ken realized the lighting was very dim now, much more bearable for his sensitive eyes.

He immediately spotted the form curled into the fetal position near the door. Crawling forward, a sense of familiarity teased at him as he moved closer. As the black headband and baby fine, light brown—almost blonde hair came into focus, Ken's breath caught and he hurried forward.

"Omi!" Grabbing the younger boy's shoulders he pulled him over onto his back, anxious of his condition. His teammate was tense all over, and trembling, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His breathing was sharp and quick, his pulse much faster than normal. Laying a hand on his forehead, Ken grimaced. He was burning up.

Ken pulled him into his lap and settled him in a more comfortable position, and his hands came away sticky with blood. With a gasp he felt around, searching for the wound, but found nothing. There wasn't a mark on him.

It was someone else's blood then; maybe one of theirs. So Omi hadn't been taken completely by surprise. How long had they had him? Did they grab him the same night? No, the blood was fresh. What if they had Aya and Yoji too? Stop it, he told himself sternly. There was no way they could have gotten all of them. It wasn't possible. Was it?

* * *

"As you see, he, or should I say she, is complete," Izuma smiled at her employer, offering pictures, and gesturing to the small video screen they had set up.

"She's lovely..." he smiled, running his hand over the photo gently. "Are you certain she is complete?"

"As far as we can tell. We need time to discover if she is able to reproduce or not. She's all woman now. I have no way of checking for the other piece you spoke of," the German leaned forward eagerly. "Unless you wish to disclose a way to me—?"

"It will show itself in time. Such beautiful eyes... We must think of a new name for our kitten," A smile played across his lips for a moment. "So," he said, with a sweeping gesture to the screen," What is that boy doing near her? What is he doing here at all?"

"That boy is another test subject. We caught him in the old Terna office building," her jade eyes narrowed. "He killed one of our people. Mira turned him over to me, and I decided to use the concentrated formula on him. We needed to try it out sometime, to find the side effects so we can alter it, if necessary. This seemed like a good opportunity. He's there particularly because we do not have enough people to watch another room, ensure the success of subduing the subjects when they get out of line, and still have some free to complete special tasks."

"Very well, but if something happens, you will be to blame," He let the photos drop to the desk and interlocked his fingers on the desk atop of them. "I have another job for you. . ."

Izuma smiled. "What do you have in mind, Keinias-san?"

* * *

Translations: 

"Stupid bastard, Auslese could use him!" "Du dämlicher Idiot! Auslese könnte Gebrauch von ihm machen!"

AN: End of Chapter one. More chapters are in the works, but inspiration is far and few between. I admit, this chapter is a bit depressing and a little confusing, but I hope that you'll stick with me to see where I run with this plot. I promise at least one member of Schwartz in later chapters (quite a bit actually), as well as relationship building. Thanks to Nariel for her spiffy translation abilities, and to Kit (Penguin-sama) and Acesha for inspiration.

Thanks!

—Akira


	2. Anything for Pancakes

"What a ghost town," Balinese commented; eyeing their target from the tree he was in. "There are only two guards that I can see."

"Three."

"Where's the third?"

"Stationary, to the left of the first window." The redhead replied, a cold bite to his words. The blonde watched the spot until he saw slight movement and nodded. Trust Abyssinian to pick out that one.

"I'll take him."

The only response he got was a rustle as Aya dropped out of the tree and dashed forward for his chosen targets. With a sigh Yoji dropped out and moved in a less direct path, half sticking to shadows to hide his approach better. Not all of them could just run up, hack and slash. He needed more finesse. Yoji had nearly reached his target when Aya struck, and the man raised his automatic rifle at his companion. That just wouldn't do. He loosed the wire allowing it to snake around the guards' throat and pulled. The guard let out a strangled gasp, releasing his weapon and struggled a moment before going still. Releasing his hold, the blonde turned and met Abyssinian at the door, his katana in hand and splashed with blood.

"Meetcha in the middle," Balinese commented and took to the right, leaving the left to Abyssinian.

The redhead made his way quickly and efficiently. He took a quick glance around the next corner and stopped. No, he must have seen wrong. Risking another glance, he cursed silently and drove his katana into the abdomen unexpectedly close guard, who fell forward, and then back as Aya stepped forward, slipping off his sword as he fell to the floor to lay in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood.

Abyssinian rushed the second guard, aiming to knock his head from his shoulders. Aya caught a flash of movement and the air was driven from his lungs as he was flattened, a heavy weight on his chest. He blinked and found himself staring at teeth as long as his fingers, opening in a snarl. He fumbled for his sword, and not finding it, grabbed the beasts head before it could bite his face off.

Grimacing he brought both knees up into it's stomach and was able to move it a little to one side, but it only snarled and jerked back unexpectedly. A giant paw filled his vision and clobbered him as he rolled away. A little dazed, Aya braced and found the blade of his sword with one hand. Gripping it he thrust it forward as the cat leapt at him again. The weapon caught the feline in the chest and the cat screamed as it came down on him, driving the katana securely into itself. Claws sliced through his coat and bit into his shoulder, but did not tear. The cat's large blue eyes focused on him and its whiskers lifted, flashing its teeth before a shudder and stillness.

Aya sighed with relief and struggled to get out from under the furred feline. He managed to roll over, pinning it to the floor and gasped, wrenching himself back from the body. A young woman lay where it had been, nude and with the same wounds as the cat; a shape shifter? Her chest rose and fell very slightly, but the crimson was spreading around her. Abyssinian dragged himself to his feet and continued on, favoring his left arm.

* * *

It was all too easy. Yoji thought, eyeing the threesome who had gotten caught in his web. Knowing that word of a sword wielding madman would spread quickly, Balinese decided to lay a trap. He caught three unsuspecting guards and finished a fourth off quickly, leaving the other three to hang. With a smirk he headed down the corridor, peering in rooms as he went. Most of them were dark, so he didn't bother investigating. There would be time for that when all the potentially dangerous distractions were taken care of.

Rounding the corner he found himself facing a pair of stainless steel double doors. He approached, and peered through one of the small thick pieces of glass situated about eye level for him, and stopped. The room looked like a lab. Frowning, the blonde kicked the door open and sent his wire ahead of him, lashing around the man standing over a prone form. With a flick of his wrist and a tug the man toppled backwards, wheezing, trying to get his fingers under the death that encircled his throat. As the light died from his eyes Yoji flicked his wrist, retracting the wire and picked up the serum the man had been holding, slipping it into his pocket. No point in wasting something that could be used later.

He approached the figure on the table and was dismayed to find it was a child. Golden eyes wide with fear, she whimpered and tried to get away from him. Her skin was sickly and pale, her motions weak. Disgusted, Yoji tried to reassure her with soothing noises as he unbuckled the straps to free her. He leaned over to undo the other side and she shrieked suddenly, small fists bouncing off his chest. He tried to soothe her again and got her other arm free. She flailed and threw herself at him with more force than he would have expected from a child of her size. He stumbled back a few steps and grabbed at her. She had latched onto him and he felt something sharp graze his throat. Dismayed, he grabbed her hair and pried her off. Little razor sharp claws sliced up his hand and swiped at his face.

He managed to pry her off and flung her away from himself. She struck the stainless steel cabinet and slumped to the floor unmoving. Yoji stared at her, one hand going to the wound she'd opened on his neck. With a sigh the blonde moved over and picked the girl up. She was going to need a lot of help to deal with her newfound furriness. He placed her back on the table and left the room. The building had to be clear before anything could be done about her anyway; and Ken and Omi came first, if, they were, in fact, here.

He slipped out of the room and headed to the right, into the area Aya was to clear. He didn't get far before he heard the redhead yell. In no hurry, Yoji rounded the corner to see him turning away from the now crimson floor tiles. Violet eyes met green, and Yoji couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Ready to explore?"

* * *

"Omi…!" Ken gritted his teeth and fought to hold the younger boy still. It was like he was fighting something invisible. And maybe he was. Shifting his weight, Ken got on his knees to make use of the leverage and got a sharp elbow to the stomach for his trouble. Wincing, the brunette grabbed Omi's arms and pinned them to the floor, hair falling into his face. Since when was it that long? Omi yelled then, the whimper gone, replaced by confidence . . . worry. The struggle stopped as suddenly as it started, Omi's labored breathing stopping with it.

Ken's head snapped up and he saw Omi lying there, blue eyes open wide in shock, staring back at him.

". . .Ken-kun?"

Ken quickly pulled back, letting his teammate up, regarding him cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"Me?! What about you!" Omi wasted no time, and Ken found himself encircled by arms and clung to. "Ken-kun, when you didn't come back . . . I—we were so worried about you!" came the muffled words from his chest, where Omi had buried his face in his sudden hug. Ken returned the hug enthusiastically. He was back. He was himself again! . . . Was it all just in his head?

"Where . . . are we?" Omi asked, finally releasing him and looking around, squinting in the dim light.

"A windowless room that's impossible to get out of," Ken shook his head. "Believe me, I've tried."

"Mmm . . . So they've kept you in here the whole time?" the prodigy asked, poking at his leg. "Odd . . ."

"Well, not exactly, it's a long story." Ken flashed a smile and sweatdropped. "What?"

". . . When they caught me...a woman shot me, but there's nothing here now. And—" Omi's hand went to his shoulder. "It's a good thing I'm immune to my darts. I'm glad Yoji suggested it."

"What do—"

There was a click and the door swung away, flooding the room with white florescent light. Ken turned his head away, squinting.

"Aya-kun! Yoji-kun!" Omi leapt to his feet and staggered a little in his haste.

"Whoa, slow down Chibi, it's good to see you too. And Ken-Ken too! Well, isn't this convenient?" The blonde grinned, grabbing Omi before he could complete his trip to the floor, "Shame on you for not inviting me on your little quest, if I was there we could have—"

"That would have just made my job harder Kudoh," Aya interjected, violet eyes on Ken as he stood up, shakily. "Then again, you always seem to enjoy making my life harder."

Yoji mock gaped. "Was that—? No, it couldn't have been—Chibi, tell me that our stoic leader did not just crack a joke?"

Aya chose to ignore the blonde and instead moved forward, offering the shaky brunette some support, his expression melting just enough to offer a small encouraging smile.

"Hehe. I'm a real screw up, eh?" Ken commented as they left the building, Aya supporting him.

" . . . "

They made it to the car without incident and hit the road, with Yoji in the drivers' seat. He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to Omi. "Call Manx, she can get back up here to clean up the rest of this mess. I'm sure she'll find lots of useful info in that place."

Omi stared at the cell for the space of a few heartbeats. Only Yoji would go to such extremes to personalize his cell. The little winking emoticon that popped on the opening screen was a bit over the top.

Ken closed his eyes gratefully when they were well out of the area. How much of it had he imagined? How much was created by the drug they had given him, and what was real? Did he hallucinate. . .That? Fatigue from the past week caught up with him, combining with the soothing motion of the car, quieting his thoughts.

"Ken," a gentle nudge, "We're home."

With the redhead's aid, Ken managed to make it to his room. With a grateful smile at Aya, he pushed the door open, and fell into bed. After a long moment of struggling out of his outer clothing, sleep pulling him into the comfortable darkness.

* * *

". . ."

"Would you stop growling at me? It's not my fault their pet kitty decided you were a good chew toy," Yoji complained, daubing at the wound on Aya's shoulder with some alcohol on a rag.

"When you stop jabbing me, I'll consider it," the redhead retorted, closing his eyes. Damn that stung. "And it wasn't a normal cat. When I killed it, she became human."

Yoji went still suddenly, shooting Aya a sharp look. ". . . Really?" he asked faintly, turning back to the dressing suddenly. So they had shifters on their side. That explained the little girl. Not good. Highly contagious furries were not good to be pitted against. Although, odds were they would have their own kitty soon enough. Aya was not going to like this.

Aya did not like that look. " . . . Yoji. What?"

Yoji shifted, picking up some gauze. "What, what?"

"What was that look for? Tell me."

"You know I don't like to be the bearer of bad news," Yoji managed a brief smile. Ooh no, he wasn't going to like this.

"Kudoh."

That one world had that note of finality in it. Either way he was screwed. Yoji sighed. "Okay, okay. That cat, or woman rather? She's a lycanthrope, a shape shifter, and a highly contagious one at that. It's a safe bet that you'll be like her in a week or two."

Aya just stared at him.

He shouldn't. Ooh he shouldn't. He might lose something vital if he said it; but how could he resist? "So. . . How do you feel about taking up as the Koneko's mascot?"

A twitch, "Kudoh—"

A grin, "Hey, hey, just a thought, you don't have to turn all . . . Abyssinian on me."

". . . What?"

"You know, all cold with the killing glares. If I was weaker than I am I'd be dead just from all the one's I've accumulated from you."

Aya snorted. ". . . So you're saying I am going to be a . . . shape shifting cat?" he inquired, getting back to the subject at hand.

"Probably. Wereleopard, Aya, wereleopard. Although, I suppose she could have been a leopard-spirit; the only real difference being that leopard-spirits aren't tied to the moon," Yoji mused, gaze thoughtful. "Either way, we should know shortly whether you're going to have fur sometimes. "

"Great," Aya sighed; yet another problem to overcome. ". . . Yoji."

"Hmm?"

"How do you know so much about this?"

"Well . . . I have my ways," Yoji allowed that sly smile slip into his expression.

". . ."

* * *

Morning rays escaped past the horizon line, faintly striking dispersed purple clouds and gradually turning them pink, then orange; fading into white as the unfathomable giant of light crept past the horizon, bathing everything in its brilliance.

The light shafted through the shades and played across the face of Ken Hidaka. Blue-green eyes fluttered open and he rolled over, sending dust motes swirling about as he glanced at the clock. With a long suffering groan he climbed out of bed carefully. Why did he insist on getting up so early? Because early was the best time to go running. After what happened he needed that time. Needed to run and think.

Rubbing his eyes, Ken groped for a pair of old soccer shorts and a t-shirt. He slipped down the stairs and cut through the kitchen; pulled on his sneakers and headed out into the crisp air. He paused long enough to stretch and headed off.

The streets in the area were still quiet, though they wouldn't be for long. Soon school children would fill the streets, along with business people and tourists. He paused at a streetlight and continued on when it changed for him, crossing the roadway, his mind on the events of the last week.

They had him for a week. A week! Omi was only caught last night, but he looked so bad off when they dumped him into the little room that served as his prison. Had Omi been like that when they first got a hold of him? He didn't think so.

Omi should be alright. They only had him for a couple of hours. But— Ken sighed and slowed to a walk, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. What had they done to him? Why was he hallucinating? Was he hallucinating? He wasn't sure. It had seemed so real.

He picked up his pace again, conscious of other people on the sidewalks he passed, still lost in thought. He had to talk to someone. But how could he talk to someone about this? He wasn't even sure it was real! Then again, that was the point. If someone else saw it too . . . A screech of tires drew him abruptly back to the present as he instinctively put his hands on the hood of the car that almost struck him.

The driver laid on the horn, shouting obscenities at him to get out of the road. Ken moved aside unperturbed by the stand up, oh so concerned citizen. Yeah, right. At least he wasn't road kill. He turned down a side street, wanting to avoid the masses; he couldn't run if there were people in the way. The shortcut brought him back to the steps of the Koneko in short order; which was already open, shutters up, the door open invitingly.

He stepped inside and found Aya tending the shop. The redhead paused in his work as Ken came in, violet eyes narrowed in unvoiced question. Where had he been?

"Hey Aya," Ken flashed their leader a smile, headed for the door to their home. He had just placed his hand on the doorknob when Aya spoke. Drat, he'd almost gotten away with it. Here came the scolding.

"Ken, be sure to take your shoes off this time, you tracked mud in last time." What, that was it? He was almost disappointed . . . wait—why should he be disappointed? Making a face at himself, he slipped through the door and removed his shoes, carting them to the area by the backdoor reserved for such things. He made the mistake of cutting through the kitchen on his way up to shower.

"Ken-Ken . . . don't tell me you went running today?" The lanky, tousled blonde leaning against the counter asked, a cup of very black coffee steaming in his hands. Only Yoji could just roll out of bed and be that beautiful, tangles and all. Ken squashed the line of thought before it could get any further.

"Just getting back to my routine,"

"You know Aya's going to make you work sooner if you run around like you're fine."

"I am fine, and I don't avoid work like it's the plague Yoji."

"I never did understand why not."

"I'm responsible."

"Ouch."

"Truth hurts."

"God you smell."

Ken blinked. "Of course, I haven't gotten to the shower yet because a particular blonde drew me into pointless conversation." Ken moved towards the door.

"Workaholic."

"Shirker," Ken managed to get the last word in as he headed up the stairs, calling it back, and then took them two at a time. He felt good. It was nice to be out in the sunshine and not stuck in a dark little room. A shower was going to feel even better.

Steam filled the room quickly as he washed and stood there for a few moments, letting the hot water beat down on him. With a wistful sigh he shut off the water and climbed out, reaching for a towel.

Long brown locks fell in his face and he frowned. He glanced down and choked, pulling the towel around himself quickly. No. No, it wasn't true. He was hallucinating again. He had to be! Swallowing quickly he flipped on the fan and cleared off the mirror with a spare towel, and was caught by the image reflected back. It was a girl, wet hair hanging just past her shoulders, holding a towel tightly wrapped, covering herself, pretty hazel eyes with a lot of white showing around the edges.

Ken closed his eyes and then leaned forward and turned on cold water, immersing his head in it. Cold should shock him out of it, shouldn't it? Gaining his courage again, he looked into the mirror, hoping to see himself, but the girl was still there. No getting past it. He was a girl.

"Oi, Ken-ken!"

Shit. What was he going to tell the others? Shit shitshitshit! It was real. It was real and Yoji was coming up. Shit. Ken scrambled out into his room and locked the door before the blonde could reach it. Being molested by Yoji was not at the top of his list. It wasn't even on the list. Maybe it would go away if he really wished it to. Right.

"Hey, Ken," the blonde ventured, knocking on his teammates door, "You in there?"

"Yeah," he called, choked and covered his mouth. Was his voice higher?

"Well get your ass out here, we need ya downstairs," the comment was followed by retreating footsteps. Ken let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and paced. How was he going to do this? Dismayed Ken flopped down on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. Life sucked. He rolled over and paused. Wait . . . He jumped up; he was himself again. This was just too weird. Not one to complain the good luck, Ken reached out and unlocked the door, then tossed aside the slipping towel and pulled on his clothes, glad to be himself again. He'd just have to pray it wouldn't happen around the others before he could figure out how to get rid of it. But what was he going to say? "Hey guys, like my new parts?"

No. Just—no. He needed to find a way to disguise them if it happened again.

"Ken-kun?"

Ken jumped and looked up to see Omi peering around the door.

"You coming down? I've made pancakes for breakfast. . ." Before Omi could finish Ken was up and headed towards him.

Anything for pancakes.

* * *

AN: Hello again! This chapter took a bit of work, but I hope you'll all return for the next installment! Oh, about that…Reviews really help me grow in my writing, and who knows, your comments could change the entire direction of the story! Please leave comments! They really help a writer along...and help generate chapters for you faster. wink If you ask a question, I'll try to answer it. Thanks! 

Akira-


	3. Truths Revealed

How boring. He lounged on the decrepit faded couch and stared at the wall, tapping his feet on the chipped glass-top coffee table buried under piles of magazines, cereal bowls and old cookies. Usually at this time he'd be watching soap operas and poking fun at the pitiful things. But hey, it was the best of both worlds: melodrama without the headache.

"Stop it."

A lazy smile spread on the German's face as he paused a long moment, shifting his feet into a better position, and continued to tap, louder than before, just to be irritating.

Before he could tap three times the coffee table gave a lurch and slid out from under his feet, shuddering against the rug once before stopping well out of reach.

"Spielverderber,"

"I'll be back tonight."

"Where're you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

" . . . " Nagi pulled on his coat and left, closing the door firmly behind him.

Oh no, he wasn't going to get away that easily. _// Prodigy. // _

A flit of annoyance; _// Mastermind. //_

"Oh god," Schuldig groaned at the sharp image he picked up from the young man's mind. _// That's disgusting. How can you think of such things before lunch?//_

Nagi smiled as the redhead withdrew, repulsed. Because it gets you out of my head, he thought to himself, a slight smile following the thought. It was fun to disturb Schuldig in the morning.

The redhead was rummaging through the cupboards, looking for something marginally edible without fuzzy stuff growing on it; when another of Nagi's thoughts reached him.

_// Having a woman up while I'm gone Shu//_

_// Wouldn't you like to know//_ He pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and poured orange juice over them; it was good, no matter what the kid said.

_// Brunette, tall, older than I thought you were into, but hey, whatever floats your boat. //_

Ignoring the last part, Schuldig dropped his shields a little and felt around. He didn't have to look far. She was radiating nervous energy. Eyebrow quirking, he ate a spoonful of his orange cereal and easily pierced her natural shields; the natural shields that everyone had in varying degrees on an unconscious level. Images flitted through his mind as fast as she thought them and he dropped the bowl, eyes widening.

It took ages for the bowl to smash on the floor, sending an orange flood across the kitchen, marshmallows swirling on top like little life preservers. She was one of _them._

He felt for Nagi again and found the other hanging around nearby. _// Thought you had a hot date//_ Schuldig got on what he hoped was Nagi's last nerve and danced. _// I mean, you didn't buy all those con— //_

Surprise, irritation and embarrassment was behind the next image that was mentally chucked at him, covering over the glimpse of something, with the most revolting thing the prodigy could think of. Gods he never wanted to see Crawford in that situation _ever_, no matter how humorous of an opportunity it would be. When he thought it could get no worse, the other figure became clearer and he wished it hadn't. That was just twisted. He vowed to stay out of his companions head, if only to avoid the secret tryst of Crawford and Farfarello in Prodigy's mind.

Shuddering, Schuldig pushed away fading image completely away, Nagi stalking off. Good; that got him out of the way. He jogged down the hall into his bedroom and grabbed a few changes of clothes, monitoring the woman's progress. He grabbed his sunglasses and slipped them onto his head and turned, bag in hand.

A leggy woman leaned on the doorframe, watching him, an arrogant smile on her full, sensual lips, light in her amber eyes indicating amusement. "So, are you going to come quietly Ehren—" she drew out the name, her expression playful; he knew the alternative. The mental sense of her disappeared from where he had thought she was, and reconnected with her as soon as he laid eyes on her.

Definitely one of them.

* * *

". . . You sure you're up to this?"

Ken looked up from the flowers he was wrapping up for a pick-up order, glancing at the redhead. "I'm okay. Anyway, with Yoji and Omi on deliveries that would leave you alone."

A nod was the only response he got as Aya worked on a large vase arrangement of yellow, pink, and orange roses. It was the first of many. Why anyone would pick such vibrant, obnoxious colors for a wedding was beyond him.

Ken finished the bouquet and placed it with the others before turning to Aya, intending to help, and caught Aya turning away from him to examine the flowers before him. What had he been staring at? Shrugging it off, he grabbed a similar, but smaller vase and started arranging it.

Aya watched Ken out of his peripheral vision, concerned. Ken had been locked away in that place for a week and he came back and just dove into his routine, like nothing happened. He reached for another yellow rose, but didn't lift it yet, turning his attention back to the arrangement, trying to decide where the flower should go.

A hand brushed his and he glanced down and followed the arm to the obvious perpetrator. Ken looked at him, his cheeks flushed pink and he pulled away, grabbing another flower and sticking it in his vase, seemingly at random. Did he have a fever? Maybe he was pushing himself too hard. The trick was how to get him out of the shop without protest. If he was Yoji it wouldn't be an issue. He never thought he'd wish another Kudoh on himself.

He watched Ken prop the door open and carry some plants outside, including the large plants, and shook his head. Ken seemed fine; yet he couldn't shake this nagging feeling that something was wrong.

He picked up the finished vase and was just setting it with the others when a crash sounded. Turning towards the front he reached the doorway just as Ken did, the brunette's eyes a little wide.

"Ken?"

"Getting the broom," the brunette said quickly, dodging past him and into the shop. His face was still pink. Aya turned to survey the damage. The pot of the palm plant Ken had been carrying was cracked nearly in half, spilling the planting soil all around it like blood pooling around a body.

Ken reemerged and started cleaning up the mess and replanting the giant in a new pot. With Aya's help, the job was done in no time. Aya picked up the second half of the broken pot and carted it around the corner to the dumpster to join the rest. Tossing it he wiped his hands together to get the dirt off and felt wet. Looking down, blood was smeared on his hands. Not much, but some. Returning to the shop he caught Ken's arm and pulled, finding the scraps down almost his entire forearm. Before he could get too good a look, Ken pulled away.

"It slipped,"

"Here, we should tend to those," Aya commented, and glanced up into Ken's face. And blinked. "When was the last time you cut your hair?"

"I've got it," Ken pulled away quickly. "Can't leave the shop unattended anyway," he argued, disappearing through the door that separated their living quarters from the shop and effectively avoiding the second question, leaving Aya staring narrowly at the swinging door.

That was close. Too close. Ken dashed up the stairs, mind racing. How the hell was he supposed to deal with this? Were they just going to pop up at any moment now? Ken closed the door and breathed, glad that Omi and Yoji were out. He dug through his drawers, trying to come up with inspiration to solve this little problem.

He pushed his shin-guards and soccer socks aside and started to do the same with the ace bandages. "Of course, why didn't I think of this earlier," he grumbled a little to himself and pulled his shirt over his head. After several attempts he managed to get them tied down, sort of. If he was careful it might hold. Frowning he slipped into Omi's room and dug around for scissors to cut his hair, coming up with nothing. Oh well, no time for it. It wasn't that noticeable—he hoped. He'd have to get it cut asap before the others noted the change.

He returned to his room via the bathroom they shared and froze, eyes lighting on Aya, who turned at his entrance, violet eyes widening at what he saw. So much for hiding it. Face warming, Ken grabbed his shirt and pulled it on.

". . . Ken . . . what—?"

"—They did this Aya; the people that had me," Ken met his eyes, then turned away.

" . . . "

"I don't know why, or how, except that it was a serum of some sort. They— I think they gave it to Omi too, but only once as far as I know. He should be okay but . . . I—" A hand touched his shoulder and he started, looking up into those clear amethyst eyes.

"We'll get them Ken. You know we will." Ken let the tension run out, leaning into Aya for support, closing his eyes. Aya froze for a second, then put a hand on Ken's head, letting him stay there. It was—nice. After a few moments, Ken rallied.

"Sorry," Ken pulled away and crossed his arms across his stomach. "Can—can we keep this between us Aya? . . . Please?" Bright blue-green eyes rose to meet amethyst, almost pleading.

" . . . If it doesn't interfere with missions; perhaps it is just temporary."

"I can only hope."

"There is one problem, besides all the trouble you're going to have hiding this from Kudoh. He can smell women like a child can smell candy—"

"Oh god, don't give me that image," Ken complained, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, not sure whether to groan or laugh. As good looking as Yoji was, Ken wasn't tempted—much. Not nearly as much as a certain redhead standing in his bedroom with an orange rose dangling from one hand. Ken shook his head, to change directions before the path his mind was taking got to be embarrassing enough to show on his face.

"What should I call you?"

Ken looked at him, "What?"

Aya cleared his throat. "When you're—different. What should I call you?"

"Oh, uh . . . I'm open to suggestions?" To be perfectly honest he would just will this curse away without needing a name but he could see it would be necessary.

"How about Kisa?" The redhead suggested after a slight pause, his tone soft.

"Kisa? Kitten?" Ken shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess."

"We should get back."

* * *

"I've got this end done, need some help down here?" Yoji asked, strolling down the line to the Chibi, eyeing the banner. Seriously, who ordered a banner of flowers for their wedding? Corsage yes, bouquets yes, petals yes, but a banner? Whatever floats your boat. Omi was perched on the very top of the ladder, leaning far to the left with the banner, attempting to snag it on the temporary hooks they had installed. At least the ladder wasn't wobbling; that was one plus.

"Bishounen, would it ever occur to you that climbing down and moving the ladder a few feet would make all the difference in the world?" he called up, hands shoved into his front pockets as he peered up at the boy.

"Yoji-kun, why don't you pull out the others while I finish this?" Omi suggested, shifting his foot on the ladder, trying to get just an inch more out of it. He stretched and sighed with relief as it finally hooked, and released the banner, and attempted to fix the sag within easy reach.

"Hey, where do you want the—" Something collided with the ladder and it shuddered, jumping under Omi's feet and toppling. Omi ended up on his back on the hard dance floor, staring up at a young man holding a large box, peering sheepishly around it.

Yoji chose that moment to return, arms full of the other drapery of flowers. Omi picked himself off the floor and nodded at the youth with the box, signaling him to move on, and righted the ladder. "I'm going to go get some more hooks," he escaped before Yoji could laugh.

Grumbling silently to himself Omi slipped out to the car and peered into the trunk, looking for the small bag full of the perfect hanging devices. They were clear and practically invisible so it seemed the flowers just magically hung there. He dug around and came up with nothing from the trunk, turned his attention to the seats. It would be like Yoji to just toss them in the car with no sense of how long it would be to find them. He would have suspected that the blonde had left them behind on the table, but he had already used quite a few of the useful little things.

He spied them lying between the seats, wedged behind the stick shift and smiled. Not as hard as he suspected, but with Yoji, you never knew. He had the uncanny ability to put something in plain site and lose it for three days.

Omi opened the door and half-crawled across the seat to reach for the hooks; and froze. An endless stream of confused images flooded his mind, shaking him up like a sailboat caught out on rough seas. _One moment he was silent and still, calmly cradling his katana, thinking about the mission to come—the rush of adrenaline as Yoji punched the gas and they sped down the dark highway, just him and the quiet—sharp laughter at a joke Yoji made—his fingers digging into the expensive leather paired with the stray thought that there was no way in hell he was going to ride with Yoji again. He would take the bike and Omi could ride—a hand was sliding up his thigh, reaching the hem of the expensive crimson skirt and playing with the edge of it teasingly, breath hot against his lips—_

Omi started, dropping the bag, sending the hooks flying; his face warm. What the heck was that? He rubbed his arms, trying to get that last image out of his head. It felt so much like one of Yoji's dates—and had that been Ken and Aya before that? He shook himself visibly and pushed the hallucination out of his mind. The lack of sleep was evidently really getting to him. He reasoned, brushing the experience off. His imagination sure was running wild lately.

Shaking his head he gathered the clips and bag and returned to the hall to finish the decorating. More than ever now he wanted to finish this job and get home for a good nights rest. It seemed he needed it.

* * *

Omi yawned for the umpteenth time since they left the hall. It had taken ages to finish the decorating. It didn't help that their "helpers" were more of a hindrance and he'd had to redo some of the arrangements several times, "I'm going to bed."

Yoji smiled and just couldn't let the opportunity pass, "I suppose you're too tired for me to join you?" he put all the disappointment he could manage behind the statement and waited for the desired effect. Omi stared blankly at him for the space of a few heartbeats and then his baby blues widened and he flushed scarlet. Perfect. Grinning, Yoji saluted him and closed the door before Omi decided throwing something with hard edges was a good idea. He fumbled out a cigarette and lighter, cupping his hands so the tiny flame wouldn't go out from the wind; and brought his thumb down, causing it to spark. No flame. He frowned and tried again. Nothing. His lighter would choose now of all times to run empty.

Inspiration struck and he slipped inside and approached the stove. Sometimes it paid to have a gas-burning stove. The blue flames licked to life and he lit his cigarette, flicked the burner off and turned to go back outside. Ken would have kittens if he smoked inside; something about ruining the athlete's lungs as well as his own. Meh. He turned back towards the door and jumped.

Aya stood in the doorway, half leaning, no—it was more like lounging, on the frame, watching him. He was silhouetted, and for the most part the only light was steeped in his blood-red hair, with a thread of light glinting off his eyes. Creepy.

"Ah-Aya, I was just using the stove, don't even bother bitching at me, I'm going out now." Yoji moved towards the redhead and paused, waiting for him to move and clear the path. A soft growl emitted from the redhead and he pushed off the wall, framed in the doorway now. Not the response he was looking for.

" –Aya," What was wrong with him? He raised the burning cigarette to his lips and took a drag, hazel eyes sharp. When that gained no reaction Yoji sighed and frowned. What was he supposed to do with a new lycanthrope? If he shifted he would tear the place apart. Better to drug him. Yoji turned and walked out the other door after tossing the cigarette in the sink with a sizzle. What better place to find drugs then the bathroom?

He made it to the small downstairs bathroom and opened the cabinet, pushing the contents around, looking for something suitable. He pulled out a few bottles that looked promising and frowned, discovering the first empty. Who would do that? What use was an empty bottle? He tossed the bottle away and went very still as arms settled around his waist.

He released the cabinet door that doubled as a mirror and let it close, focusing on the redhead in the reflection to see how far gone he was. There was no physical sign, but he could feel the change. This wasn't Aya anymore; though the shell remained the same at the moment. The other man leaned close, face only inches from Yoji's hair, drawing in a deep breath. Smelling him; learning his scent.

The redhead snorted, sneezed and shook his head, eyes narrowing. Guessing he had scented the magic which Yoji lived and breathed with all his life, he took the opportunity to turn, the pills in one hand.

"Aya, you'll thank me for this later—" Yoji captured the shorter man's jaw and tried to slip a few of the pills in. A low growl reverberated and he was slammed against the sink, Aya's face suddenly inches from his, his lip curled in a snarl, exposing almost dainty fangs.

He was not about to sit here and arm wrestle with Aya. He would lose faster then you could say Weiss. He did the only thing he could think of. He started to drop his glamour. In the few seconds it took him to make the decision, Aya had grabbed his shoulders and shoved, snapping his head back fast enough for the blonde to see spots in his vision, flinging the idea through the wall as if Aya knew what he was thinking. The only thing that kept him standing after the sudden blow was Aya's hands fisted in his shirt.

Yoji blinked the spots out of his vision, clutching at the sink. Shit. At this rate Aya would be furry tonight. He didn't think it would progress so quickly. The full moon was ages away. He looked up as Aya's hands slowly loosened, now simply resting on his chest. Catching a glimpse of slit pupils in the midst of those beautiful amethysts proved him right. Well shit. The angry look on Aya's face had softened, but it wasn't Aya anymore. The eyes were feral and curious— and utterly not human.

There had to be a way out of this. There was no way he could give Aya the pills now, they were scattered all over the place. Aya had leaned close, pinning him to the edge of the sink with his hips, face lowered over his exposed chest. Smelling. Was the Hunger upon him already? Moving slowly, he put his hands on Aya's and tried to free himself. A low rumbling was the response, violet eyes narrowed. The redhead eyed him a moment or two longer, then turned his attention downward, to the exposed flesh. Yoji started, gasping when he felt a trail of wetness down his chest as Aya— licked him; leaving a wet line across his stomach, and going lower.

He closed his eyes, trying to push away the desire rising in him. Aya had captured the blonde's attention the first moment he saw him. Those crimson locks of hair, settled upon alabaster skin framing those beautiful amethysts set into that delicate face. Yoji was pulled back to reality as he felt Aya's hands on his pants. He wanted it, but not like this. Not like this. It had to be Aya in there, not his kitty cat.

He reached down and touched Aya's face, drawing him upwards. "Your kitty cat would be a perv," he whispered hoarsely, bending to taste those kissable lips. A deep sound came from Aya's throat, and Yoji only had a moment to think he guessed wrong and that Aya was going to smash his head into the mirror for being such a perverted bastard; when those pale hands flashed past his face and fisted into his wavy curls, pulling him down sharply into the kiss.

The blonde melted just a little at the electrifying touch, not drawing away like he knew he should, but leaning closer, deepening the kiss. A small sound came from Aya, and that only made him want to jump the redhead. That last thought was what brought him back to himself. Damn. Being intoxicated like this now was going to get him beaten to death later, when Aya was able to crawl back into his own head. But, no need to upset the kitty. It seemed the easiest way to lead him on was to allow himself to be molested. The hard part would be escaping him once they reached the basement. Intellectually he knew it would work, physically, he wasn't sure if he was up to it.

He captured Aya's wandering hands and pulled back from the kiss gently, giving the other a heated gaze. He raised one of those pale hands to his lips and brushed them to the knuckles, whispering, "Not here."

It seemed to be simple enough for the cat to understand, because Aya backed off a little. Yoji flashed Aya a look that could melt women into their socks, but out of everything else; he led the shorter man out the bathroom and through the kitchen, headed for the basement. It was the most secure place in the building. If it couldn't hold Aya, nothing could.

As they reached the door Aya pushed him up against it non-too-gently, and Yoji could feel his hot breath on his neck. Fumbling for the door he grasped the handle just as Aya kissed his neck, once, twice—and then bit down.

Yoji shivered, a small gasp escaping him, and turned the handle pushing the door open. He was leaning so heavily on it he went with it, forcing Aya to either let go or be pulled along as well. Aya let go with a growl and followed impatiently. Yoji turned, facing the other man and pinned his own hands behind his back. Aya stood there, staring at him, the first glimmer of suspicion in those violet eyes. Damn. Only two ways to keep this from getting violent; and he knew he would die in the morning if he did the first.

He met those burning violet orbs and dropped his glamour completely, not slowly as he'd tried earlier, wanting to leave nothing to chance. He knew he could mesmerize humans easily, lycanthrope or not. Even vampires were ensnared by the power of the Faerie court, if only for a limited time.

Aya's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a little 'oh' as he drank in the full impact of Yoji unclouded by magic. Yoji moved slowly, reaching a hand out to caress that delicate face one last time before taking a swift step to the left, slamming the door and sliding the lock home. There was silence for a long moment. Long enough that he almost opened the door to see if Aya was all right. Then came the scream of frustration, and the door shuddered under the impact of the angry shapeshifter. Grabbing a chair, Yoji secured it under the handle for extra reinforcement and waited to see if the door would outlast the attention span. Less than an hour later, the pounding stopped. Maybe he'd finally decided to go to sleep. One could always hope.

Yoji trooped upstairs, tugging his button-up shirt off as he went, dropping it just inside his bedroom door, heading straight for the bathroom. A shower sounded good. A nice, cold shower before bed.

* * *

Translations:  
Spielverderber: Spoilsport

A/N: Hey all! Glad to see that you're returning to read more of my ficcie! Though, to tell the truth, a few more reviews would be nice. The more reviews I get, the more inspired I am, the faster I write and get it out here for you all to see! It's a marvelous circle when everybody gets what they want! I would especially appreciate comments on the steamy scene.

Thanks! —Akira


	4. Rude Awakening

Yoji stifled a yawn the following morning as he emerged from the mess that was his room, fresh from the shower. He padded barefoot down the hall, passing Omi's open door. Omi was already up, probably down making breakfast. Too bad Ken wasn't always an early riser. He hated to wake the brunette just to help him restrain Aya if necessary, but—he was rather hoping to avoid being eaten. Having Ken there as backup greatly reduced the chance. He knocked on the door and after a moment of silence, pushed it open. Ken didn't have Aya's issues of people in his room, though Aya's room couldn't be nearly as cluttered as Kens. He stepped over a pile of books and papers and moved gracefully among other various objects, including, but not limited to clothing, weights, soccer balls, and soccer paraphernalia by the thin light coming from the ajar bathroom door. Ken had curtains so thick hardly any light could get through, creating ultimate twilight until they were opened for the day. Even his own room wasn't so cluttered. Comfortably messy, yes, cluttered—no.

He picked his way across the dark room towards the bed, and sighed with relief as his legs bumped against it. Of course, Ken was on the far side of the bed. Nothing was ever easy. He leaned and reached, putting one hand down for balance, and grabbed for his teammate's shoulder. What he ended up with was the sheet, revealing a rather feminine shoulder with a spill of brunette hair around it. Captured by surprise that Ken had a girl in his bed, and a hot one at that, he kept pulling on the sheet, revealing perfectly tan skin—no tan lines—down to the curve of her hip, where the top of shorts were revealed. The girl sighed in her sleep and rolled, hand outstretched, searching for the lost sheet in her sleep.

Yoji's gaze lifted from the top of her shorts traced the curve of her body up past her breasts to her face. Despite popular belief, he really wasn't a breasts kind of guy. Which body part was his favorite? Well, it was hidden for the moment, so the face is where he shifted to. High cheekbones with a triangular jaw and a slightly pointy nose, offset by full lips, parted in sleep. She moved again, and her arm ran into him. He jumped and stilled when her eyelids fluttered open and stared at him, unfocused and senseless for a moment before becoming impossibly large and surrounded by the blush that invaded her face. Cute—was the thought that he had before she squeaked and lashed out, punching him right in the nose with a closed fist, flooring him. On a cleat. Damn those things hurt.

"Yoji! What the HELL are you doing in here!?" she yelled, clutching the sheet to herself, anger and embarrassment set into the line of her body, into her flushed face.

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head, allowing that familiar smile come onto his face. The smile that said he knew something. "I happen to live here. I'm the one who should be asking you that question, and while I'm at it, how did you learn my name miss—?"

She froze a moment, mouth hanging open, staring at him. She set her jaw stubbornly and glared at him. It would have been comparable to Aya's stares, but the blush ruined the effect. "N-None of your business! K-Ken warned me about you—"

"Did he now?" Yoji smiled slyly. "Why would he warn you about me?" he asked innocently. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him, gaze flat. It was reminiscent of Aya when he was trying not to smile. Cute. Of course, cute was only one step short of pissed as hell. That is, if Aya logic could be applied to her. Yoji sighed and interrupted as her mouth opened, ready to lob something angry at him. "Calm down, nothing personal. Where is lover-boy? I need him for something."

Her mouth dropped open again, this time in shock. "Lover-boy?"

That glint entered those blue-green eyes as Yoji watched her. "Oh don't tell me he had a hot chick like you sleep in his bed, but he didn't actually sleep with you?" the blonde shook his head in disappointment. Teasing would definitely be in order. He waved his hands in the air as if to erase what he said. "Never mind. So where is he? Did he sneak out and run away?"

Ken leapt at the out. Of course. He went running at least three times a week. Why didn't she think of it before? Shee hesitated a moment purposefully, as if thinking. "He said he might go for a run."

"Mmm. Well, if he sneaks back in, tell him to get his tight ass downstairs. I've got something important for him to do." Yoji flashed her that smile and leaned in, capturing her cheek with one hand and planting a quick kiss on those sweet lips. She started and tried to pull away, and he let her, but leaned with her a little, flicking his tongue out and licking her lips before she got far.

She melted a little, staring at him, and he realized he'd lowered his shields. Bad Sidhe, no cookie. He snapped them back into place and she came to herself. Blushing, she shoved him off the bed, like she knew he did something wrong. Laughing, Yoji glided out of the room, leaving Ken's lover alone. But Ken-ken was not going to be so lucky. Oh no, not nearly as lucky. But first things first; checking on Aya had to be priority.

After being awoken so rudely, Ken couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep. In fact, it seemed like a really bad idea with Yoji knowing that there was a girl in his room. Well, he guessed it was true. Technically.

He was tempted to bypass a shower for the sake of his sanity, but Omi and Yoji would probably chase him back up for being stinky. Oh well. He had to face it one day, what difference did it make if he did it sooner rather than later? Maybe he'd get better at not being embarrassed—Right. With a sigh he pulled himself from bed and felt weird. It was going to take a bit for him to get used to the new additions. He crossed his arms to provide some stability and strode into the bathroom; locking both doors to be sure nobody would try to sneak a peek. Okay, truth; so Yoji couldn't sneak a peek. Omi would never think of doing such a thing, and Aya wasn't interested in that sort of thing. Unfortunately. Wait, where did that thought come from?

He got clean as quickly as possible and went for clothing. Clothes always made him feel better. He got his pants on and realized that he was standing on them. So he was shorter as a girl? Great. He expected to be smaller, but not really shorter. Before he could really think of all the problems that could spawn from this particular problem and what other, not so obvious problems could be caused, his pants felt snugger, and he was himself. Thank God. Perhaps this curse would be gone now? He could only wish.

Shaking the thought off, he padded down the stairs, stifling a yawn as he entered the kitchen, greeted by the wonderful smell of bacon. Unsurprisingly, Omi stood at the stove, juggling at least three different pans. The youngest member of Weiss also happened to be the best consistent cook in the house. Yoji had a few dishes of his own, though the appearance of one of them was rare. He tended to waste his efforts on women rather then his teammates. Ken himself could cook a little, but could face the music that the younger boy was better at it. A lot better. And Aya—Well, nobody touched Aya's cooking if they could help it. At best, it tasted like nothing; otherwise it somehow came out tasting like cardboard, and had the consistency of slimy oatmeal with burned mystery bits.

Honey-brown hair moved as Omi raised his eyes from the pan and glanced at him. "Good morning Ken-kun, where's Aya? Isn't he up yet?"

Ken raised his eyebrows. "I don't know." Why ask him?

"Bishounen, Ken-ken and I are going to get Aya up—right after breakfast," the blond smirked as Omi placed a platter full of bacon, eggs and pancakes down on the table.

"If we do that, he won't get any between the two of you." Omi sighed, exasperated. "I'll go get him—"

"Seriously Chibi, we'll leave some for him, the blonde coaxed. He got a skeptical look for his efforts. "Oh fine, we'll get him," Yoji grumbled, shoving his chair back from the table with a screech, leading the way to the basement door. "But he," a finger pointed at Ken, "gets to go down first."

The two younger members stared at him. "You locked him in the basement? Yoji!" Omi exclaimed, exasperated. "Why—how could you do that?!"

Sigh. "Didn't I tell you yet?" The blonde looked from one to the other of them and shook his head, "Our leader is going to be furry."

". . . WHAT?!"

" . . . So that's what happened. And, since Ken is the one of us best at close fighting, he gets to go down first."

Ken was about to argue, but hey, when Yoji was right, he was right. No sense in getting one of them hurt when he could prevent it. He reached for the handle and stopped with it in hand, to toss a threat at Yoji. "If he makes me kitty, you're dead."

"Why Ken-ken, would I do something like that to you? Speaking of which, who was that lovely brunette I found lounging in your bed, hmm?"

"I wasn't—! Er— none of your business. Just back off Yoji." the brunette warned, face flushing. He opened the door and escaped down the spiral stairs, being chased by the playboy's laughter. The view he got stopped him. There was stuffing everywhere, with bits and pieces of color here and there. The puffy chair they owned was torn apart and scattered all over the basement. No trace of Aya.

Ken took the final steps and glanced around. No movement. He approached the couch silently. It was the logical place to sleep. . . He spotted those crimson locks and peered over the back of the couch. His mouth dropped open and he stared at the beautiful man before him. The redhead was stretched the length of the couch, lying half on his side. His arms were crossed low across his bare stomach, as if he was cold.

"Ken-ken? You alive down there?" Yoji called from the top of the stairs. What a coward.

It took him two tries to answer affirmatively, and then he turned back to Aya and found himself staring at those familiar violet eyes, and suddenly became very aware that Aya was nude. He looked away, flushing scarlet. "Aya—"

" . . . "

" . . . "

"Ken, mind handing me that blanket?" Ken jumped at Aya's deep, unwavering voice. Aya was impossible to embarrass. That was the only explanation.

"Ah, sure—Sure!" Ken lifted the blanket and handed it over the back of the couch, getting another glimpse of Aya's lean body. He took a couple of hurried steps backwards, turning away. "I'll go let them know that you're—you."

" . . . Aa."

"Well, is it safe?" Yoji asked, lounging on the open door as Ken strode up the stairs, face flushed. Eyebrows went up as he examined the brunette's face, looking for clues.

"He's fine. Just need to clean up a little, which you can do, ya coward," Ken plucked the broom seemingly from midair and shoved it into Yoji's hands, pushing past him to escape through the kitchen without another word.

"Hey! You can't just—!" Yoji started indignantly moving after Ken.

"Do it Kudoh," Aya ordered, walking between the two standing at the top of the stairs and continued through the kitchen, headed for the stairs in nothing but a small throw being held closed at his waist.

"A-Aya-kun—er, why are you . . . where are your clothes?" Omi stuttered, eyes wide.

" . . . " Aya shook his head and gestured vaguely towards the stairs behind him before heading for his room.

" . . . Why do I have to clean it up?" Yoji grumbled, heading down. "Hey, Bishounen, help and I'll buy supper so you don't have to cook."

"Mm. Okay."

The two proceeded downstairs and stared at the destruction of what had been Omi's favorite chair.

"Damn. I didn't think he'd be this destructive." Yoji glanced around; noticing everything else was relatively untouched, though there was fur and fuzz everywhere. "I guess he chose a target and focused his attention on it. Think he had some sort of secret grudge against that chair? Or maybe, deep down, he's really not a puffy-chair kinda guy."

Omi snorted. "Yoji-kun, you've got strange insight," the honey-haired member bent to retrieve a large piece of fuzz. As soon as his hand closed around it, flashes of violence invaded his conscious. Claws ripping into the fake leather, flinging the little white balls and polyester around the room; the need for blood; the need for meat. Another image intruded upon the violence, making it seem less real. He felt curls clutched in his hands, his face turned up and very close to—then he was kneeling licking the same man's stomach, tugging at the rough material keeping him from what he really wanted to get at— skin between his teeth, soft blonde curls brushing his cheek as he marked his soon to be lover—Omi gasped as a weight came down on his shoulder and dropped the fuzz.

"Chibi? You okay?" Yoji reached down and lifted Omi's head with a few fingers under his chin. Omi shuddered and stepped back, trying to pull away from the inevitable images, this time too distorted and quick for him to register clearly before the flow stopped. He blinked and found he was hugging himself, a few feet back from Yoji, who was staring.

"Omi—"

"Ah, I-I'm fine Yoji-kun. I just, felt a little dizzy there for a moment," Omi turned away, mind working a mile a minute. What was that? Why did he keep seeing these . . . images? What did they mean?

"Bishonen, when will you learn that you can't deceive me of all people? Eh?" the tall blonde asked, draping himself over Omi's shoulders and peering at him curiously. Omi waited for the images to come, but nothing happened. Maybe it was random? Or maybe it would only happen once with each person? Turning that over in his mind he thought about what he had seen and felt himself flush. Curly blonde hair, the skin, the—subject all pointed to one thing: Yoji. Before his brain could catch up his mouth opened, "Yoji, who did you have down here? You'd better not be bringing women down here, this is our meeting room! Take them to your room if you must bring them home!"

Yoji stared dumbly at him, "What?"

"You heard me! Don't bring girls down here!"

"What makes you think I have?"

"Because I saw—" Omi cut himself off abruptly and turned quickly, pulling out of Yoji's reach. Yoji wouldn't know. He couldn't have seen.

"What?"

Omi bit his lip. Would Yoji think he was crazy, seeing these images? He would definitely poke fun, insinuate that he could control what images he got. . . but . . . This was not something he could handle on his own. It wasn't going away, but getting worse. He sighed and plopped down on the couch, his hands in his lap. "I—I think I'm going crazy Yoji-kun. I keep seeing—weird flashes of events, pieces of other people's lives . . ."

"Whoa, slow down there Chibi, random images?"

"Not—random exactly . . ." Omi flushed and looked down. "The first time it happened was when I went and got those hooks out of the car, so I got pieces of events that happened in that car, and I think thoughts, from the people in the car. Aya thinking of the mission, Ken freaked because you drive too fast in the rain, and uh—well . . ." Omi blushed crimson.

Yoji cleared his throat and grinned. "Okay, okay, I believe you. What I do in my car is my own business you know—"

"Like I WANTED to see that! Yoji!" Omi grimaced and covered his eyes. "Thank god it was the beginning and not somewhere in the middle."

Yoji grinned wickedly. "What, not curious Bishonen?" he teased, playing his fingers across Omi's arm lightly. He couldn't contain his laughter at the look he received as Omi jerked away. "**Almost** as good as Aya, Omichi," Yoji winked.

"Okay, okay, so this just started happening recently." Yoji paused, tilting his head to one side. "Isn't it obvious where this is stemming from? That group, the ones that had Ken-ken and you. Neither of you looked that good when we got you out."

"Then why isn't Ken affected? They had him longer even—"

"Who says he's not?" Yoji asked claiming the spot next to him on the couch gracefully, draping his arms along the back.

Omi blinked. "You think? Why wouldn't he say anything?" he asked, leaning back.

"Well, you didn't. Not right away anyway."

"I suppose that's plausible. I—" Omi flinched. Countless images. Countless missions. Acceptance. Refusal. Determination. He would not allow these killers to continue on. He would willingly take the life of anyone who threatened his team. Even if that meant—.

"Omi! Na—" Blinking rapidly Omi came to himself Yoji's hands on his shoulders, shaking him.

"A-ah, I'm okay Yo-tan," Omi assured him raising his head and smiling, hands going to those on his shoulders to stop the shaking. He caught Yoji's green eyes and paused. Gold and copper rings blended with the green, sending a jolt down his spine as he fell into those eyes.

It was happening again. It had to be. Yoji leaned closer, at the quiet response, trying to peer under those honey-brown bangs when Omi looked up suddenly, his baby blues a touch wide.

"Omi?" the blonde started, silenced when Omi closed the distance between them; soft lips tentatively brushed his own, then pressed forward. Startled, Yoji froze, then shoved the other back by his shoulders. "Omi!" he squeaked in a rather un-Yoji-like manner and frowned, eyebrows drawing in.

Omi blinked and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes briefly, before reaching for him again. Yoji held him back at arms length, a nervous laugh escaping him. How could he have been so stupid? But who would guess that Omi was susceptible to Sidhe magic? He built his shields up until Omi stopped giving him those doe eyes. Well under shield, Omi's cheeks were flaming as he jumped up, gasped out something and disappeared up the stairs at a dead run.

For once in his life, Yoji Kudoh was left open mouthed, and speechless.

Pain. An immeasurable amount of thoughts flung at him, crashing through his thin, broken barriers. _Pathetic_, he was pathetic. The sharp pain of skin on skin brought him back to reality, out of the sea of thoughts he was being subjected to with a gasp.

"So, have you changed your mind, or am I going to have to get rough with you?"

A dry rasp sounded, Schuldig's shoulders shaking as he laughed bitterly. "Get rough? This is nothing.

A tight smile formed on the tall man's face. Schuldig knew what that smile meant. It was the promise of torment. All at once Schuldig learned just how flimsy his grasp on his thin shields were as the came crashing down around his ears once again, not just invaded by this man; but by anyone—everyone near. With a dismayed cry the German grabbed his head, trying to push them out. But to no avail, as soon as he succeeded in shoving some back, another wave of power would roll over him, drowning him in the thoughts of others. Intimate things, random things, violent things, childish things; there was no end to them!

As suddenly as the assault began, it withdrew like a wave back from a sandy beach, and there was nothing; nothing but himself. The silence was almost deafening. It was . . . nice. No intruding thoughts; just his own.

A hand brushed his forehead and twined into his hair, bringing him back to reality as they tightened and jerked his head back. "What would you do Ehren? What would you do for the silence?" The pain turned into a caress as the woman leaned down, nails trailing out of his hair and down the side of his face.

"What would you do for the silence, young one?"

Schuldig bowed his head, hands clenched loosely in fists, submitting to the woman who captured his heart so many years ago, and the man who fucked him up. The man would never get him again, but the woman lured him out by hope. A hope to one day be free.

Unsigned reviews:

Isi: I'm glad it did. Thanks!

Lexi: Thanks!

A/N: Hey all! It's me again. I hope you all enjoyed this installment and are excited for the next chunk I'm working on. Feel free to ask questions and make guesses on the pairings!

—Akira


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